


Coffee

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Retcon, Sorta Coffee Shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto likes his job at the small cafe. Little does he know, he had a much more dangerous job. It comes back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

Ianto liked his job. 

Between the snide remarks from hurrying businessmen and rude words from misunderstood orders, he did enjoy making coffee. 

The small cafe was never truly busy, and Ianto almost always found himself taking the mid-day shifts, more than happy to be the only person working.

It was not because of the man. Of course not. 

He’d been coming in for as long as he could remember. On Ianto’s first day, he’d come in and immediately began flirting mercilessly with him, though his smile never seemed to make it to his eyes. 

Ianto never actually asked him to stop. He wasn’t sure he wanted him to. Even still, though, he asked for mid-days so often that the manager now put him there on the schedule without being asked. 

Never was he without interest when the man came around, either. Some days he’d dash in as if he was running from something, and then proceed to grin and saunter up to the counter,greeting Ianto with a probably-dirty remark and a coffee related pun. Then, he’d order four extra-strong coffees(in a cup carrier, please). 

Other days he’d step in slowly, blue army coat flowing behind him, and order with a soft, sad smile and an easy hello. 

No matter what, though, Ianto’s heart did an odd jump when he heard the door open and the man’s easy, casual voice. 

Today, though, it was different. 

At quarter to noon, fifteen minutes before the strange man usually arrived, the door opened and a stranger stepped in. An oddly familiar stranger. 

“Hello.” He said softly, eyeing the man’s odd clothing. It reminded him of the other unnamed man. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea,” 

He trailed off, and the blonde man looked up. He was holding a gun, but for some odd reason Ianto wasn’t afraid. 

The man’s mouth spread into a grin, and he nodded softly. “Ah, eye candy. I was wondering where they dumped you off.” He looked around, gun still in hand. “It would be a coffee shop.” 

Just then the other man burst through the door, too, old-fashioned gun in hand and eyes wide. “John,” He said through gritted teeth, pointing his gun at the newly dubbed ‘John.’ 

“Don’t do this.” 

He seemed to realize Ianto’s presence behind the counter, and shrugged slightly. As if pointing a gun at other flirting customers was a normal thing. “Hey, Ianto. The usual?” 

“You still come here?” John asked gleefully, laughing as Ianto turned to brew the coffee, silently wondered what they were discussing. “That’s adorable. Truly. After all that’s happened, you come back to see him. Really, Jack. Does he even know your name?” 

“He never could,” The man-Jack-replied, his gun pressed into the man’s temple. “I did what I had to do.” 

“Ret-conning him?” John laughed. Why did those words sound so familiar? They echoed in his mind, crawling under his skin. 

“I thought you were in love, Jack, oh, it was disgusting. What ever happened to your oh-so romantic little love story with eye candy, hm? What changed?” 

Jack’s eyes softened. “It was the only thing I could do for him.” 

Ianto paused, his back turned to them, listening. “Ah, so it was him, wasn’t it? He couldn’t stand it anymore, the work.” 

Jack, since the first day Ianto met him, didn’t have a reply on hand. 

John tsked, shaking his head at the other. “Oh, now. What is it? Welsh got your tongue?” 

Ianto paused again, hands stilling. 

There was a noise. 

Jack had punched John. 

“You never really loved him, did you?” He asked, lip split and bleeding. “He was only a toy. But he gave you _everything._ ” 

“Don’t you dare say that.” Jack said darkly, and Ianto could hear the dull sound of somebody being hit. “I loved him. You could never know how it feels to lose someone like that.” 

John stood, holding a hand to his bleeding nose. “Can’t I?” 

Jack stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head and pointing his gun at the man. “No. You can’t.” 

John sobered, before he looked suddenly bitter. “Oh, but you fixed him , didn’t you? Gave him a safeword. That way if you ever needed him as a toy in your bed, you could have him. Isn’t that right, Jack?” 

The man scowled, more fear than anything in his eyes. Ianto spun to face them, setting the coffees down before he dropped them. “Don’t you dare. It isn’t your right.” 

John raised an eyebrow, his eyes on Jack’s without reverence. “Is that a challenge?” 

“No, John, damn it!” Jack snapped, clicking the safety off on his gun. “I’ll shoot you. I swear it, I’ll shoot you.” 

The man gave him a look, and turned to Ianto. 

There he stood, wide-eyed behind the coffee counter he’d been working at for nearly a year. 

“Torchwood.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Should I continue this on? I might be persuaded to, considering it'd a nicely set up storyline. I'm not sure, yet, though. Let me know what you think!


End file.
